Sheltered Shrubs
by nazcarfanatic
Summary: Years have passed since the angsty coming of age adventures of Ginger Foutley. Now an author of a collection of autobiographical short stories, she's inadvertently put back into contact with one of her oldest and most cherished friends, Courtney. Both haven't seen or spoken to each other since their falling out. Now they'll be forced to address their feelings about one another.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: ATBG was one of my most favorite and cherished cartoons from my youth. A few days ago on a nostalgia trip I rediscovered it. My fondness for the series grew, as I discovered themes that were too subtle for my kid brain to detect. I took to fanfiction only to find that none of the stories really did the show or characters justice. Before long a story was brewing inside me, that I had to get out so I could sleep again.

*stay tuned for ch. 2

* * *

_Klingle klingle_ as they'd say in Germany, the blonde knew that at least. Considering French was more her forté. She smiled as the door retracted in a quick screech. The morning had to be special if the brewhouse was so quiet as to hear the bells ring.

Oh who was she kidding? Today would be nothing special as she approached the oak counter, slightly apprehensive as only Agnes possessed the magic touch when it came to making the best Kopi Luwak. For that reason she justified this place wasn't beyond her means or _rustic_, even though part of her despised herself for holding those perceptions. "Oh hey you", the woman finally snapped back into reality.

"It has been a month, now you know I can't start the morning off without coming to see you." She smiled at Agnes.

"Sorry hun, doc needed me to rest. Here you go sweetheart," Agnes set the cardboard cup on the aged oak finish of the counter.

"Doc?" The revelation roused the fair haired woman's attention from her phone screen. "What're you talking about sweet pea...?" That's when something else caught her attention. Drawn to the golden ray of sunlight reflecting off the glass jar the lady's eyes transfixed. Things all made sense now.

She found her self staring at a collection cup with a pride swallowing plea. Agnes had suffered a heart attack, that explained her absence. What's worse is the aging woman had to explain on the note in no dignifying terms that she did not have insurance.

The grown woman couldn't bring herself to speak. All she could do was look at the much older woman behind the counter. The woman, whom she treated like a friend even though everyone could tell it came off as superficial. She knew it, Agnes knew it. It bothered her, she'd fought an uphill battle over that personality flaw all her life, and now she felt bad. Silently she paid.

Yet her attention couldn't help but drift back to the glass. Barely _thirty_ dollars she thought. The blonde looked over her shoulder, she became slightly annoyed. This wasn't an affluent neighborhood, but it wasn't a poor one either.

Pursing her lips, she flipped through her her Versace handbag or purse as others called it. Others, there was that elitist mentality creeping up again, the one she'd fought to shed in high school and college. Finally the woman retrieved an angora checkbook.

Putting the tip of the pen up against her teeth the young woman ruminated over a proper amount, before finally scribbling a figure on the paper.

"And Agnes...this is for you sweet pea", she beamed, almost unable to contain the surprise as she extended her arm.

"Well thank you, but you don't need to give it to me. Put it in the cup darlin." Agnes stated.

"It's probably best I didn't." The fair haired maiden chuckled.

Bewildered Agnes accepted the check from her customer. The much older barista's eyes widened, while her brain must've rebooted when she finally took in the amount.

Pay to the order of: Alice's Health Fund

Twenty six thousand and _ 00 dollars.

_. Courtney Gripling

Looking back at Courtney, then the jar, the older woman understood the younger girl's hesitation. She folded the check and promptly stuffed it in her pocket. The gesture really gave Agnes a greater respect for her frequent customer. She truly was different. The girl had a heart on her. But before she could find the words the young blonde cut her off.

"No need. Just promise me you'll take it easy. Can't have the only barista in town with half a sense leaving me anytime soon!"

Agnes nodded in affirmation.

With that Courtney Gripling smiled. Coffee in hand the twenty eight year old strutted out the door, still in tune with the freshly risen sun, strolling past the autumn leaves on her way to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Courtney Gripling felt the tug of the elevator as it came to an abrupt stop on the tenth floor. Every day for the past two years she felt like the ghost of Briarson & Ballinger Publishing, haunting the halls, offices, even the utility rooms. Sure she was the publisher, yet an unwelcome guest in a building that didn't nor would ever likely belong to her. Installed as a leader only because her father and brother were country club buddies with the CEO.

She slipped past the only thing in her office that was truly hers. Dual Bachelors of Arts degrees from Carnegie-Mellon. One in communication, and the other in French Literature. Setting her coffee down on the desk, the fair haired woman kicked back in preparation for the long day ahead of her. One manuscript, the editors notes for the next Aurora Teagarden novel; yes they were that kind of publishing house, and six press releases to approve of. Courtney really didn't mind to be totally honest. The work kept her focused, grounded, and often pulling all nighters. To her it kept her mind off the torment of having nobody to go home to.

* * *

"Last minute submission, Courtney."

"Just set it down here...somewhere," Courtney said to her assistant. Face buried between two pages. She was on the verge of a tough decision. Alfonse, her editor excised a critical page. It gave the manuscript just a little more heart. She was likely going to have to overrule him. "Pitch it to me, Warner", she huffed.

"This one's a doozy Miss G."

"I'm sure it is."

"As Told By Ginger; A Collection of Short Stories." _Ginger_? The mention of that name caused the young woman to stir, tilting her head up ever so slightly.

"And?" Courtney postured.

"Well it's not much by way of title. But I think you'll like it. Pretty autobiographical too. By some chick named, and I really hope I get this right, Ginger Fou..tley," Warner smiled.

The revelation jarred the young woman. _Did she finally do it?_ Courtney Gripling couldn't help but wonder.

"Ginger Foutley?", she raised her eyebrow almost incredulously.

"Yeah. Personally I think she'd be a great fit. She fits our image: wholesome, family friendly, small town. Small Connecticut town 'Sheltered Scrubs' to be exact. Oh and she's recently become a mother. Plus her husband's a restauranteur. I have his name here, it's..Darren..-"

"Patterson." Courtney cut him off. "Which makes her Ginger Foutley-Patterson". She continued "And it's Sheltered _Shrubs_."

"That couldn't've been a lucky guess," Warner replied. "How'd you know that."

"We have history together."

"Wait you know her?" Warner smiled. "We can totally land this account. I'm telling you you could really save our necks, plus get you back into the board's good graces, the..-"

She cut him off again. "Leave now Warner. Please. I'm very busy."

"Ms. Gripling don't be foolish here, I'm begging you to consider-,"

"That will be _all_, Warner," she warned.

Frustrated, the young executive storms off. Across the hall into his office. Rich cunt festered in his mind. The girl was a crapshoot. Half the time she'd pull a halfway decent win out of her ass, the other half you'd wonder if she had any instincts at all. That cat shit coffee she drinks must be rotting her damn brain. Warner was fuming. All he could hope for was that his boss made the right decision.

* * *

Midnight was fast approaching. Courtney lay slumped over on her desk, hands cradling her head, hoping a light rub would ease the looming headache. Everyone else had long since gone home, well over two hours ago. The ghost of Briarson and Ballinger publishing was in full form tonight. Fighting the overwhelming urge to sleep or being driven insane by the light ticking of the air traveling through the ducts, Courtney decided she couldn't do it anymore. Tonight she was powerless to fight it, there were no more press releases to approve.

Giving her forehead one last rub, her head and face resting idly in her palms, the young woman finally spread her fingers grazing her beautiful blonde hair ever so slightly. Peeking through the cracks, the manuscript taunted her.

_As Told By Ginger_. So plain. She never did need much to be happy, as Courtney recalled. Not that it mattered. She wouldn't read it.

Even if it glossed over their years at Carnegie, or it stopped at high school, the twenty eight year old was determined not to relive the heartache. She had to pick her battle; she chose to go home, giving into the lesser evil. She came within twenty yards of the lobby entrance before doubling back, riding up to the ten story floor, and grabbing Ginger's manuscript, and leaving for good this time.

* * *

The sound of the lock clicking permeated through the two story colonial house. A light flickered on as Courtney trudged up the wooden stairs of her home. Once relaxed she slipped on her robe, figuring she'll enjoy a small glass of Chianti on her second story balcony.

Manuscript in hand, Courtney's heart finally betrayed her. She flipped open to a random page.

_Who's the girl in the pink capris? It's Courtney. It's Courtney._

A smile curled up her lips as she drank from her wine glass. That was a long time ago, she was such an awkward teen then.

Finally she slipped back into the master bedroom once she was finished with her wine, hoping to get lost in a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Like clockwork the elevator tugged as it landed on the tenth floor of Briarson and Ballinger Publishing, this time the ghost of B&B seemed to be driven by some small purpose. She knocked on Warner's door.

"Come in."

"Hey Warn," Courtney beamed. "Let's do it. As Told by Ginger, let's make it happen," she smiled.

Warner found himself at a slight loss for words, before he regained his composure. "Uhh...sure that's great Miss G. Listen I know I was slightly out of line for what I said the other day. I just want to apologize. As you know we're all stressed."

"Happens to the best of us Warn," Courtney brushed it off.

"Well anyway...anyway I'll phone Ms. Foutley today and let her know the good news. We'll send Aubrey out there. Get the papers signed, do the whole welcome to the family spiel, and get moving."

"Wait...you plan on sending someone out?" The blonde queried.

"I mean...I've got a really good feeling about this. We should pull out all the stops on this one, don't you think?"

"Right. Of course," Courtney Gripling shook her head as she gave the incredulous smile she'd perfected all her life as she walked across the hall into her office.

_Five years_. Courtney mulled. Five long years since they'd seen each other. It ate away at her for what seemed like forever, what they shared at Carnegie Mellon. Five grueling, painful, years she fought to put Ginger out of her mind, and it worked after a while. Courtney stopped thinking about her, poured herself into her work and travels, hoping and even praying it would cure the butterflies in her stomach. Simultaneously the best and worst feeling in the world.

Now the floodgates have been opened once again, the euphoria was overwhelming. She has to see her again. She'd fallen under Ginger's spell once again.

Leaning over her desk she picked up the phone. "Warner..." she paged.

"Yes Courtney," he replied.

"You uhhh by any chance haven't told Aubrey yet, have you?"

"No. Whyyy?"

"Well, sweet pea. I just think maybe I should go out and visit Ginger Foutley instead. Since we have history together," Courtney wheedled.

"I mean, that makes sense. Are you sure you want to travel that far?"

"Oh Warn, you're adorable. Connecticut is only a two hour drive." The young woman smiled.

"If you insist Courtney."

"You're the best Warner! Oh, and don't tell her who exactly you're sending. I want her to be surprised," with that she quickly dropped the phone onto the receiver.

Her heart was jackhammering? Was she really going to open this can of worms, again? Of course she was. Ginger was her ride or die after all.

* * *

A/N: So...any thoughts/predictions? What do you guys theorize Courtney is hung up on


	3. Chapter 3

_Fwumphhh_ came the sound of the cover as it was yanked off the Maserati. Courtney's Maserati Ghibli to be exact. Less than two years old with a sleek black paint job which sported leather interior. The young woman didn't hesitate as she slipped into the driver's seat ready to undertake the journey.

Courtney Gripling popped in her CD containing Enya's greatest hits as she sped down the New England countryside, easing into her agonizing memories.

—

**Lucky High School **

**Senior year**

**2010**

"You're _what_?" Miranda Killgallen growled at the audacious girl standing before her.

"You know I just think it would be a better fit that's all, no need to bare your teeth Miranda," Courtney Gripling reasoned.

"A month ago you were hopped up on going to Yale. We were supposed to go to Yale. We got in, and now you're bowing out?" Miranda cross examined. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden? Carnegie-Mellon? Pittsburgh? You _have_ got to be kidding me."

Courtney opened her mouth to diffuse, but before she could the warning bell thundered down the hall.

_Two minutes before class_.

It came as a reprieve for the girl as Miranda was nowhere near finished with her interrogation. Oh she'll get to the bottom of this come hell or high water. She knew Courtney, something or someone had to be bending her ear. Carnegie-Mellon was a step down for that woman, a step down for both of them. They were going to Yale, this is the Ivy League. Miranda's future was secure, finally. It'd been touch and go a few years back when Prescott Gripling was arrested for insider trading. The Gripling's lost _everything_. With less then a million dollars to their name they downsized. For a year, Sheltered Shrubs most prestigious family lived among the middle class. Karma, which by the way Miranda relished on the down low. The Foutley's old house, which put a damper on the high school girl's amusement.

Just when Miranda was coming around to accepting the fact that her meal ticket was gone for good, the Gripling family, utilizing savvy they never knew they possessed, threw their last couple hundred thousand dollars into the house flipping market. By Courtney and Miranda's senior year, the Gripling's were able to reclaim a significant albeit smaller portion of their fortune back.

It humbled the popular girl somewhat. She found the experience of pulling herself up by her bootstraps slightly empowering. But Courtney Gripling was still Courtney Gripling.

"Oh Ginger!" Courtney yelled at her friend whom she spotted down the hall. "Wait up." She delightfully dashed down the hallway, completely disregarding the trouble she was in with her best friend.

That's when Miranda got an inkling. _Ginger_...she fumed. It always came back to Ginger Foutley.

* * *

"You rotten little skank, you picked Foutley over me?"

"Whatever do you mean Miranda?", said Courtney who was more invested in her compact mirror.

_"Oh I just think it'll be a better fit,_" she mocked. "Can the crap Courtney. You and I both know it's because of dear...sweet...adorable Ginger."

"Is this about Yale, Miranda?" The popular girl closed her compact. Finally divulging her full attention to her best friend. School had just let out, so if Courtney seemed rather annoyed, rest assured it was because she didn't want to keep Winston waiting.

Miranda scoffed. "No Courtney I'm talking about the Christmas talent show! Of course I'm talking about Yale." The teen waited for it to sink in for the other girl, who's ire Miranda didn't care that she was incurring. She continued "We both know _She_ is the reason you've decided to dip out on us going to Yale."

"We can talk about this later. I can't keep Winston waiting forever!" She countered.

"No", she commanded. "Don't you dare blow this off. Winston can sit there all night for all I care. We're doing this _NOW_."

"I don't know Miranda. Her plan just makes more sense I guess."

"Of course it does."

"You know I don't understand why you don't like her. She's kind, adorable, and someone everyone should aspire to be," Courtney challenged.

Miranda leaned in close to her "best friend" looking her dead in the eyes. "You really wanna know why I can't stand Foutley?," she growled.

Before Courtney could respond Miranda let her have it.

"Because she is everything about your life bundled up into one 5ft package," she bit.

Courtney was bewildered.

"You are a spoiled incompetent little girl." Miranda continued. "That's right. You are a girl. You've been spoiled and pampered your whole life. You're a Gripling, you've got money in your blood. You entitled, ungrateful little bitch. You have everything handed to you on a silver platter and it still isn't enough. You have the world at your footsteps, and you squander it. You do not get to enjoy these luxuries...these wonders of the world because you haven't earned the right to do so because you haven't had to work for any of it!"

Miranda was shouting now, not caring that they were standing in a now empty school. What a pity, that Courtney isn't the center of attention right now.

"I have worked for every single thing I have ever had. My father has worked for every single thing he has ever had, and what do you do? You choose Ginger _Fucking_ Foutley."

Miranda backs the terrified teen into a locker as she continues her verbal evisceration of Sheltered Shrubs most beloved daughters.

"Ginger, the embodiment of everything you've never had to work for. Someone who never worked to be your friend, never had to convince you she was worthy of your attention, never had to fight to be by your side, who never had to worry about not being your number one girl. So you ask me why I hate her Courtney? That's why."

The wealthy girl felt her eyes begin to mist. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could her best friend harbor such vitriol towards her? All because of Ginger.

"I have to work twice as good to have half of what you have, and yet you'll move heaven and earth for Ginger all because of this borderline _erotic_ obsession you have with her." Miranda ended it on that. She stormed off. She'd find her own ride home. On the other hand Courtney Gripling was floored.

_Borderline erotic_? Her fascination with Ginger couldn't be erotic. It just couldn't be. Platonic or sisterly love maybe, but she doesn't swing that way. Yet...she never displayed that much passion towards Mipsy or Miranda. The urge to be around Ginger Foutley was overwhelming sure, but maybe it's because she's charming. Not to mention that budding confidence. It was like a drug to the popular girl.

Courtney Gripling found herself trembling. She needed to go home, to think about things. Most importantly she had to hide her tears from Winston as she climbed into the back of the limo. Even if there were some truth to Miranda's words, Ginger would never be hers. Their lives are completely different.

* * *

"Oh who am I kidding. Miranda was right...I'm nothing but a rich blonde bimbo," Courtney confessed crying on Ginger's shoulder. It was one of their hang out nights, where Courtney or Macie, or both usually show up at Ginger's new house, okay Dr. Dave and Mrs. Foutley's new house, but that's neither here nor there. Ginger sensed Courtney was distraught, even though the teen tried to hold it together. After the third time she excused herself from the horror movie marathon, Ginger finally asked her friend if she was ok, only then did she confess.

"Wow Courtney, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say."

"You're just trying to cheer me up."

"No. I really mean it," Ginger said. "You need to realize that people will like you for who you are. Not just what you can give them."

Her words seemed to have no effect on her weeping friend.

"You have several redeeming qualities you know? You're not like Miranda, Mipsy, or...Dodie." Ginger assured.

"What redeeming qualities could I possibly possess Ginger,?" Courtney said finally pulling her head off the readhead's shoulder as to look at her.

Ginger sighed before smiling. "You know...," she began. "I don't know that many rich girls who go to public school, or who are willing to try anything even if they consider it beneath their means."

"True," Courtney chuckled. "I did go to Camp Caprice."

"Exactly!" Ginger agreed. "You're not afraid to take a bite out of different apples, no matter how sour."

"You want to know what I think?" Ginger continued.

"What?" Courtney sniffled.

"I think, deep down, you've always been a non conformist. A rebel. You just don't realize it."

"That's true."

"I mean you befriended me, and it certainly wasn't because of my good looks," Ginger laughed.

Courtney's head perked up at the statement, she swore her heart skipped several beats.

"Psssh yeah, obviously not." She played it off.

"Wait what?," Ginger said. Obviously caught off guard as her smile dropped to a neutral stance.

_Shit shit shit_ Courtney beat herself up mentally. Wrong thing to say.

"No umm..umm...that's not it. You're sexy!" The blonde girl blurted out and immediately felt her heart drop down into her feet. She could tell Ginger was caught off guard by the Freudian slip. "No I mean, not sexy...well you know what I mean...uhhh," but the readhead cut her off.

"Calm down. I'm just messing with you Courtney," she laughed. "Now come on...Evil Dead isn't going to watch itself."

The teen breathed a sigh of relief. She almost drowned in that anxiety pool. As the two walked back to Ginger's room, Courtney racked her brain as to why she panicked. Miranda's words echoing in her mind, the rest of the movie.

Lois Foutley happened to lay on the horn at precisely the right time, when the movie had gone super quiet. Both girls nearly peed themselves they were so startled. Such a thing was out of character for Ginger's mom, she had to go outside and see what was up. And of course Courtney had to follow.

"Check it out, Ging," her mom yelled. Ginger's jaw dropped ever so slightly at the sight of her mother and Dr. Dave stepping out of a brand new four door Chevy Silverado. It was so...huge, and blue, and a step up from their old piece of shit Volkswagen. It was nice having disposable income now that her mother married a doctor. Courtney Gripling was too floored to leave the doorway, because while Ginger fawned over the new vehicle, she knew in that moment how to prove her independence, not just to Miranda, but everyone else. She was going to learn how to drive, _and that foxy redhead is going to teach me._

* * *

"Okay, you can take the blindfold off Courtney."

They were at the mall. The old abandoned mall to be precise, the one that closed down right before their first year of junior high. Courtney remembered all too well, it broke her heart knowing her favorite place in the world closed down, and she'd have to travel all the way to Hartford for the next closest Versace store.

"Why are we here, Ginger? This place holds too many memories," Courtney said looking out the windows of the old Volkswagen, yeah Lois would be damned if the girls were driving the new truck.

"You wanted to learn how to drive. What better place to start than an empty parking lot?" Ginger unbuckled her seatbelt, and reached for the door handle. "Get out. We'll switch."

"I think if I'm going to learn how to drive then it should be in something more stylish. Oooh like a Bentley," the blonde said as her and the redhead walked past each other to the opposite sides of the car.

"Well we don't _have_ a Bentley so you'll just have to make due," Ginger huffed buckling her seatbelt in the process, and mentally preparing for the worst. "Okay...now what's the first thing we do?"

Courtney pursed her lips. "Oh I know! We start it" Her fingers jabbed at the buttons on the side of the steering wheel enthusiastically.

"Those are the cruise control buttons," Ginger sighed. "No. First thing you do is put your seatbelt on and adjust the mirrors." She pointed to the rear view mirror, and the buttons for the side mirrors. "Press that button for the side mirrors," she pointed.

Courtney obeyed. "They moved! Look Ginger they move!" She squealed enthusiastically.

"Focus Courtney," Ginger shouted after the other girl played with the moving mirrors for over thirty seconds. Although she couldn't be too mad. It was actually kind of endearing watching the other girl move her head in sync with the mirrors, completely amazed. "Focus." She commanded once again. "Adjust them to where you can see."

Courtney did what she was told and adjusted the mirrors.

"_Now_ we start the car," Ginger placed her hand over Courtney's, which unbeknownst to her caused the popular girl's breath to hitch. She guided it towards the key. "Start the car," she commanded softly removing her hand.

The ignition stunned the sheltered girl for a second, before turning into excitement. She basked in the approval of her friend sitting across from her. The smile was infectious, and any doubts Courtney had up to that point had been wiped clean.

"Now this next part is very important, Courtney. Keep your foot hovering over the brake at all times. One foot, never two. Because nobody drives with both feet. Shift the gear into Drive, or 'D'. We're in Park now," she pointed to the gearshift and the letters. Courtney Gripling reached down to shift the gear.

"It's not working, Ginger," she pouted.

"That's because you have to press the brake to shift gears."

The popular girl followed suit, she gasped as the car lurched slightly as she shifted the gear. "Relax. That's supposed to happen." She touched the other girl's shoulder. "Now as soon as you take your foot off the brake the car is going to move, from this point on just ease your foot on the gas. Don't stomp it, same goes for the brakes." Ginger let go of Courtney's shoulder, quickly closing her eyes and leaning back in her seat. She braced herself for the worst.

But to her chagrin it never came. Like most things the blonde applied herself to, she excelled. They spent close to an hour driving all around that abandoned mall. Ginger had never been prouder of the girl who was moving closer and closer to best friend status. Right up there with Macie.

"Next week we can start doing roads!" Courtney said getting out of the driver's seat as her and Ginger swapped sides.

"Uhh...I think you need a little more practice before you're ready for that," Ginger buckled her seatbelt. "And for that...you need to take a driving class."

"Class?" Courtney was bewildered.

"Well yeah...everyone has too. It's required to get your license. But don't worry. I'll still teach you the basics."

"Ohh," Courtney said, mildly defeated. She hadn't thought this out. She wouldn't get to spend as much time with Ginger as she'd hoped.

"You know...I think I'm going to turn down Yale. I'm thinking Carnegie-Mellon might be a better fit."

"Carnegie? That's where I'm going." She whipped her head to the side, facing the girl next to her.

"Really? Ginger, I thought you got into Dartmouth?" She lied.

"I wish!" Ginger exclaimed. Was the girl following her? She wondered. It wouldn't be the first time. Ginger knew Courtney was quite lonely despite being the popular girl, and the center of attention. As both women grew older they realized popularity meant nothing. She figured it probably scared the poor girl. It meant having to confront harsh truths. A lot of your so called friends were social climbers, or driven by their own agendas. Courtney learned that the hard way with Miranda, as had Ginger with Dodie. For now she wasn't going to press the issue. Her friend will come to her when she's ready. But for now she didn't want to end such a happy day on a sad note.

"C'mon we'll go out for ice cream," Ginger insisted.

Courtney Gripling perked back up.

* * *

**Present day**

Courtney Gripling's maserati raced down the isolated roads of the New England countryside. She was within a few miles of the Connecticut border by now. The beautiful farms, and autumn leaves provided her with much needed levity. The gorgeous scenery eased her doldrums. Not enough to make her turn off the CD, because everyone someone as sheltered as Courtney Gripling knew that when you're sad, all you want to do is hear those sad depressing songs. Especially from Enya.

_Who can say why your heart sighs_

_As your love flies, only time_

_And who can say why your heart cries_

_When your love lies, only time_

_Who can say when the roads meet_

_That love might be in your heart_

_And who can say when the day sleeps_

_If the night keeps all your heart_

_Night keeps all your heart_

_Who can say if your love grows_

_As your heart chose_

_Only time_

_And who can say where the road goes_

_Where the day flows, only time._

* * *

**Carnegie-Mellon University **

**Junior year.**

**2013**

"Poor Courtney," Macie commented.

They were at the winter formal at Carnegie. Macie had made the road trip up from Sheltered Shrubs to visit Ginger. The group of friends always tried to visit a few times a year. Normally the dance/party scene wasn't Ginger's or Macie's thing, but since Darren and her had broken up _again_. She figured it was best to be in high spirits. Courtney suggested they party and have the time of their lives tonight. She knew it's what Ginger needed. Yet she felt bad for her friend. She'd been in a funk recently, she told Ginger it's because she was feeling homesick, but the redhead knew better. She'd known for a while it was a different kind of sick. So much so that Macie and Ginger couldn't help notice the girl was uncharacteristically withdrawn. She'd opted to sit out most of the event, sulking at their table.

"I'll go dance with her," Ginger said.

"I think she'd like that, Macie smiled.

"C'mon Courtney," Ginger smiled, extending her arm out.

With only slight hesitation the blonde took her friend's hand, as Ginger pulled her out onto the dance floor.

"Ginger! What are you doing?" Courtney gasped as Ginger placed her hands on her shoulders.

"Oh C'mon, don't act like I'm not making your wildest dream come true, Courtney," she smirked as Courtney Gripling instinctively placed her hands around the redhead's waste.

Her heart was jackhammering. _Ginger knows_. "You...know?," she whispered as they swayed through the smoky air.

"You wore a t-shirt with my face on it, when I went to avalanche falls. You weren't exactly subtle, Courtney, and come on; all those pieces of jewelry, you taking me to Milan. Although I'll admit it took me a while to put two and two together."

"I'm sorry. I never meant for you to be embarrassed." She looked down in shame.

"Courtney...hey...I'm not embarrassed. You're allowed to feel the way you feel, if anything I'm sort of flattered."

"Flattered?" Courtney squeed.

"Mmmhmmm."

"So you're not mad?"

"Nah."

The two ladies swayed back and forth on the dance floor, before they knew it their bodies became one.

"I'm crazy about you," Courtney confessed, relieved she didn't have to hide it anymore. She made a bold move and rested her forehead against Ginger's. "Have you ever thought about it?" "Us, I mean?" She corrected.

Ginger chuckled. "Well...I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the attention sometimes."

"To be honest I figured we'd get it out of our system at some point." She laughed as Courtney perked her head up. Their eyes met and they needed no words at all. Courtney was shocked. That couldn't have meant what she thought. Her mind was racing as she looked into Ginger's eyes.

"Spark the fire, Courtney!" She challenged her awestruck friend. The blonde woman's heart flatlined, and her knees buckled. The music had dissipated now. Now Courtney was left with a choice to make.

And she took off. The Gripling woman dashed out of the ballroom area before anyone took any time to notice. Ginger was disappointed, but understanding. Sighing she walked back over to where Macie was.

* * *

**Carnegie-Mellon University**

**Ginger's dorm room**

**90 minutes later**

The English lit major had just rinsed the Colgate out of her mouth and spat, when she was caught off guard by a knock on her door. It was odd, she was just about ready for bed. It couldn't be Macie since she left close to half an hour ago.

Cautiously she opened the door.

"Courtney?!" She was surprised. The girl had returned. She was rocking a white cami and a leather jacket, having ditched the dress.

"I think I'm ready for a taste of all things Ginger," she shot back with a devilish smirk. Taking in Foutley's plain look which only consisted only of a white cotton nightshirt.

Her lips came crashing against Ginger's, as the redhead pulled her inside and slammed the door shut. It was going to be an all nighter. Good thing she brushed her teeth.

The sunlight assaulted the redhead, forcing her eyes to water. She reached over to silence the bubble ballad that was her cell phone alarm. For a minute she was startled by her limited mobility, then Ginger came to. An arm was wrapped around her. Courtney's arm to be exact.

"Good morning baby," Courtney cooed as she stirred.

Grabbing her phone, Ginger managed to catch a glimpse of the time as her vision righted itself.

7:30

"I think I have class," she yawned.

"Skip it," Courtney murmured pulling her tight. "I'll have breakfast catered in, and we can spend the whole day in bed watching scary movies."

"As tempting as that sounds. This degree isn't going to earn itself." Ginger smiled as she ran her fingers through the blonde's hair.

"Mmmm...take your pick: Gordon Ramsay, Marco Pierre White, Bobby Flay?"

"Why Courtney Gripling, no one can say you don't know the key to a girl's heart," Ginger patted her companion's shoulder. After a serene couple moments the redhead slid onto the side of the bed. Before finally standing up.

"Want some company in there?" The rich girl asked as her companion made her way to the bathroom for the shower. "I can help with those hard to reach places."

Ginger hesitated for a moment. Unsure of their situation. Was this all just for fun or something deeper? The college student decided she'd figure it out later. She shot a mischievous smirk back at Courtney inviting her with a gesture of her head towards the shower. The rich girl was delighted to oblige as she quickly followed behind.

...

"Well, thank you Ginger...for the sex," Courtney said in the midst of putting her jacket back on.

"Hey no need to thank me," the redhead smiled.

"We'll catch up later," Courtney singsonged out the door happy as a lark. For the first time in her life everything seemed like it was in order. She was happy. Happy and head over heels in love.

* * *

**Present Day**

Courtney's Maserati came to a smooth stop on the gravel road. So this was Ginger and Darren's new digs? The blonde admired the sleepy New England cottage. How it was isolated from the main road and town, yet peaceful and welcoming.

_"How about I take you out to dinner tonight. My baby deserves the best. Anywhere you wanna go, just say the word Ginger." Courtney leaned against the wall, trying her best to be seductive. Yet she sensed something was off about her love._

_It's Darren, Courtney. He wants to try again. I'm sorry._

Courtney remembered their last encounter. Those gut wrenching words from the next day. How her knees buckled, the sick feeling in her stomach that only seemed to go away whenever she was around Ginger, tormented her for weeks, then months.

Now that twinge was flaring up again. But this time she'll be damned if the other woman gets to her again. Wiping her tears discretely, Courtney Gripling gathered the materials from her car and began the agonizing walk up to the door. She pressed the doorbell for a good half second.

A familiar friend opened the door with a startled expression.

"Courtney?" Ginger gasped.

"Hello, Ginger."


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/n: **_We get some exposition on what happens to Dodie, Macie, Carl, Hoodsey, and Blake.

Also if anyone were to play adult Ginger in live action there would be nobody more perfect for the role than Jane Levy. Hell she basically played a misanthropic snarkier version of Ginger, as Tessa in Emily Kapnek's other show Suburgatory.

* * *

_**Patterson house**_

_**Thirty two minutes earlier **_

"Morning Mama," Darren Patterson smiled as he wrapped his arms around his wife. Surprising her as she finished loading the dishes into the washer

"Is Marlowe down for the count?" Ginger asked.

"It took some convincing but our little angel is sound asleep," he said softly. "Here let me finish up here. You should get ready. Today's the big day. I can feel it Ging."

His wife smiled. Ginger lucked out when it came to her husband. This would be the third publisher they've met with in recent months. It truly seemed like a storybook ending. The restauranteur and his author wife, and newborn baby, sounds like a recipe for chaos, but quite the contrary everything was perfect. And Ginger shared Darren's enthusiasm. She could feel it in her bones _today_ would be the day. But first she needed to get cleaned up. Can't meet with a representative of the publishing agency in her current state.

"You're the best," she smiled as she kissed her husband.

"No. You're the best!" He assured her. As he started up the dishwasher.

"You go knock 'em dead mister." Ginger chuckled.

She was referring to Darren's meeting. Hopefully within a matter of a couple hours he'd be closing the deal on their third restaurant.

"I got this." Darren assured as he hugged Ginger before heading into the garage. "I mean it, Ginger. I really think this'll be the one," referring to the book deal.

"I do too babe."

"Later!"

With that Ginger headed upstairs, peeking in on her sleeping daughter. Before quickly freshening up. Completely oblivious to what fate has in store for her.

* * *

_**Present time.**_

"Courtney?" Ginger gasped.

"Hello, Ginger."

"Wh-what're you doing here," Ginger asked completely bewildered? Courtney didn't have her address, not that she wouldn't have given it to her.

Courtney Gripling stared at her old friend before she found the right words. "I represent Briarson and Ballinger Publishing. We scheduled a meeting with you regarding your manuscript."

"You work _for _Briarson and Ballinger, Courtney?"

"I'm the Publisher. May I come in?"

The shock of seeing an old friend caused the redhead to forget her manners, for she was completely lost in nostalgia.

"Sorry. Of course you can come in." Ginger opened the door wider, gesturing for the other woman to come in. "Wow. You're the publisher,?" she asked not so much incredulously but in astonishment. She's proud of her friend. That's one hell of an accomplishment.

Courtney entered the cottage. It was almost exactly how she pictured it, based on the outside. It's like she stepped into a house from one of those silly little Hallmark movies they show in the fall. Sleepy and peaceful, rustic yet welcoming. "Of course I'm the publisher, Ginger." Courtney said after taking in the interior.

"Is there a place we can sit down and talk" Courtney asked?

"Of course," Ginger closed the door. "Let's take this into the living room. It's right this way."

"Will dear old Darren be joining us," she snarked almost unable to disguise the spite?

"No," the other woman played it off. "He's actually at a meeting. We're closing the deal on a third restaurant."

"One of your own?"

"Not exactly. Darren, Will, and I own Patterson's. But together we own a Chili's and fingers crossed that if all goes well we'll own a second Chilli's." Ginger said. "But enough about me. How've you been Courtney?"

Courtney smirked as she laid out the papers on the table for Ginger to see. "This isn't really a social visit Ginger. I'm strictly here on business."

"Well then by all means...let's talk business," Ginger relented.

—

"You've seen this type of deal before. It's the standard 10% for hardback and 8% for paperback. Then after 100,000 you get 10% for all further copies," Courtney reiterated.

"You're right I have seen this deal before. But I'm hoping we can open a window of negotiation." Ginger leaned back on the couch, tactfully choosing her next words. "I was hoping for twelve and a half after one hundred thousand. As for hardback I'm fine with ten and then fifteen after 10,000 copies."

"You sure know how to drive a hard bargain, but I don't know if I'll be able to swing that." Courtney said not even making eye contact. Her attention was divided between the myriad of papers strewn across the coffee table.

"You know what. Let me pour some champagne. Want some?" Ginger asked.

"I think a glass of bubbly would be just lovely. Thanks." Courtney remarked still not even making eye contact. Her rudeness hadn't gone unnoticed by the redhead. Her old friend knew why though. It was the elephant in the room. But now wasn't the time to discuss it. The proud wife and mother slipped off the couch and headed into the kitchen.

Finally Courtney could have a moment. The blonde took in the living room. It was very welcoming. Her eyes drifted towards the mantle above the fireplace. It was definitely well decorated. Photos of the Patterson's were the focal point. Ginger's daughter was adorable, Courtney couldn't help but allow a brief smile. The woman had done well for herself. Ginger always worked hard, now she finally reaps the rewards.

Courtney heard the footsteps as ginger puttered back into the living room. Quickly she resumed her standoff-ish posture. "For you," Ginger smiled handing her friend the drink.

"Usually champagne is reserved for celebration," Courtney took a sip.

"Oh this is a celebration." Ginger commented.

"How do you figure?" Courtney set her glass down on the table.

"Because _you_ are going to agree to my terms," the redhead smirked around the rim of the wine glass.

"Hmmm and what on earth makes you think that?"

Ginger sighs. "Because you came out here to see me."

"I told you, this wasn't a social visit Ginger. It's busi-," but before she could finish her old friend cut her off.

"Business I know. But here's the thing Courtney. You and I both know that you could've sent any one of your little flunkies down here to give me the spiel." Ginger set her glass down. "But you came. You personally wanted to drive two hours out of your way to come see me. See I knew the moment I opened the door and saw you that the deal would be done before the ink dried."

The Gripling girl tried her damndest to fight if, but this time she was powerless as a discreet little smile crept up on her face. She was impressed, and she was at a loss for words. An occasion that was exceptionally rare for the blonde. Her brain filtered through responses, before finally deciding on something simple. Yet as soon as she opened her mouth to speak. A faint noise caught her off guard. One in the form of a small coo.

"What's that?" She asked Ginger.

The mother's head gestured to the small baby monitor on the opposite side of the living room. "That's Marlowe," Ginger smiled. "She's up from her nap." The redhead gave Courtney an understanding look. She excused herself and scurried up the stairs. Two minutes later her friend returned, baby cradled in her arms.

Courtney froze.

"Would you like to hold her, Courtney?" Ginger whispered

"I...I don't know. I've never done anything like this before," she fumbled. It's not that Courtney disliked infants, or little children. But her sheltered upbringing never provided her the opportunity. Not to mention the thought of an infant spitting up or dirtying her cardigan or red camisole would be a slight inconvenience. But nonetheless some force compelled her to oblige. She nodded at her friend.

"Careful." Ginger handed over her daughter.

Courtney Gripling, who would probably tell you she was uncomfortable around children. Immediately fell in love with the adorable baby girl. Immediately her previous demeanor dropped, replaced by warmth and the biggest smile she'd ever had in her life. Her heart melted into a puddle. She was already falling for the child's manipulations. "She's like a little you, Ginger!" Courtney crooned. "Look she has your eyes!"

"Pleased to meet you Marlowe. I'm aunt Courtney." She smiled. "Anything you want, that your mama or daddy won't buy you. I will," she promised.

Ginger laughed. It was a damn near perfect moment.

* * *

"So...any update on Dodie?" Courtney asked. By this time she'd migrated to the opposite side of the table. Having joined Ginger on the same couch.

"From what Hoodsey told Carl, she's...still in rehab." Ginger looked down in shame as she said it. Both women knew it wasn't their fault. Dodie had fallen into the popular crowd in high school. Effectively ditching Macie and Ginger. Her flexible moral compass proved to be a big hit with Mipsy and Miranda. It wasn't too long after that, the peer pressure reared it's ugly head, and Dodie Bishop found herself addicted to Xanax, or Prozac, or whatever feel good pull she could get her hands on. She managed to stay clean for a few years, even got a job in advertising. Married Chet and had a daughter, all was good until she called the president of the Make-A-Wish foundation a "fucktard", _while on the phone with him_. After a lengthy investigation Dodie was promptly fired after drug tests revealed she was using again. Ginger still felt bad. Dodie wasn't always this way, she missed the person she used to be.

"And how is Hoodsey. Did he ever get back the money Dodie stole from him? Is he still at the airport." Courtney wondered?

"No. And yes, but he's moved up to Air Traffic Control. One of the youngest in the state." Ginger took a sip of her champagne before continuing. "Carl is so proud of him. They make an effort to go out and hang at least once a month."

_Ughh Carl Foutley._ Not the blonde's most favorite person in the world. "What's he up to these days?" She immediately regretted asking. Ginger picked up on her apprehension, and chuckled. "He's gone straight. He's actually working on his masters in biochem. Right now he's teaching at Sheltered Shrubs community college. We're all so proud of him."

"So he works with Macie then?"

"No." Ginger corrected. "Macie teaches at Lucky junior high. She only taught up there for a brief minute. As an adjunct. Now she teaches social studies."

The revelation pleased Courtney. She fell out of touch with Macie around the time she fell out with Ginger. The blonde felt bad for not reaching out to her aside from the occasional like on instagram. Just because Courtney was mad at Ginger didn't give her the right to take it out on Macie. "I really do need to call that poor girl. We'll go out for margaritas or something."

"I think she'd like that," Ginger took one final sip, then set her glass back down. "So...how's Blake? Is he still in politics?"

"Well the whole Linda McMahon campaign really soured him on politics." Courtney was referring to Linda McMahon's campaign in which she ran unsuccessfully for Senator of Connecticut with no luck. The wife of Pro Wrestling mogul Vince McMahon failed twice at a political run for office.

"Really?" Ginger said.

"Yeah. His conscience got the best of him. Plus it was right around the time I came out. So that probably influenced his decision."

"Now he's gone back to his true passion. Flying planes."

"That's amazing!" Ginger exclaimed.

Darren Patterson closed the garage door. He couldn't wait to tell his wife the good news, they were now the proud owners of a second Chili's Bar and Grill. And judging by the Maserati parked in their driveway it could only mean Ginger's meeting was going well too.

He was greeted by the faint sound of giggling as he entered the house. The man quickly deduced that it had to be coming through the living room. Ginger was fond of holding meetings there.

"I don't know what on earth possessed me to grab your teddy bear of all things to try and sop up the pee." The uproarious laughter continued as he neared closer to the source.

"Poor Princess. I had...I had to send her off to get dry cleaned," said another voice struggling to speak because she was laughing so hard. This other voice was much more posh. Yet somehow vaguely familiar. It wasn't until the gentleman approached the entryway that he got the surprise of his life.

"Courtney?! Courtney Gripling?" He addressed the room. Ginger and Courtney's laughter immediately subsided. Courtney's demeanor immediately dropped back to sour as she took in the presence of the person who'd been the bane of her existence since high school.

"Hello _Darren." _She said, with a slight hint of possessiveness in her voice.

"Wow. Courtney Gripling. What're you doing here? Man it's been years since I've seen you." Darren wondered completely oblivious to the blonde woman's hostility.

"Darren!," Ginger exclaimed. "You'll never guess but Courtney is the publisher for Briarson and Ballinger."

"Really? That's terrific! C'mon bring it in Gripling." Darren motioned for her to hug him. Slowly the other woman got up off the couch and reciprocated the hug. _Oh how I wish I had a knife. _She fantasized as she hugged the husband of her former lover. "It is good to see you."

"You too Darren." She lied.

"Awww man. I know Ginger's going to be in excellent hands with you and your company."

Courtney nodded.

"Oh I almost forgot the great news! We did it Babe! We're not the proud owners of our third restaurant." Darren kissed his wife on the lips.

"I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you honey," she smiled while hugging her husband.

"Well don't let me intrude on the festivities," Courtney blurted out. "Ginger if you don't mind we can finish this up tomorrow."

"Uhhh, sure Courtney. Are you staying in town or close by?" Ginger asked while her friend was in the process of shuffling the papers back into the folder.

"No need to worry about me Ginger. I'll find a Hilton or a nice little Bed and Breakfast nearby."

Ginger and Darren both gave each other a sideways glance before he leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. "Yeah totally," Courtney heard him whisper back.

"Courtney..." Ginger began. "Why don't you stay here with us? We have a nice spare bedroom upstairs."

"I don't know Ginger. I'd hate to cut into your little slice of paradise." Courtney smirked.

"Nonsense. Mi Casa es su Casa." Darren nodded in agreement.

"Awesome." Ginger hugged the other woman.

"C'mon Courtney. I'll help you with your bags. By the way that's a nice Maz you've got out there."

"Maz? As in Maserati?" Ginger asked. Completely shocked.

"Yes. It's my Maserati."

"Wow. You finally did it Courtney. You learned how to drive. I'm so proud of you," the redhead congratulated as she picked up her infant daughter.

"Well I did have a really good teacher," the blonde blushed. "And Darren. That won't be necessary. I only brought one suitcase."

"Wow. I never thought I'd see the day where Courtney Gripling would become a one suitcase kind of girl," he chuckled. So did Ginger as she walked away humming a little song to Marlowe.

"Well I guess we've all evolved. Haven't we?" Her smile dropped as her eyes shot daggers at the grown man.

The fair haired executive returned inside the cottage with her massive suitcase in hand. More proof in Ginger's eyes that she was correct about Courtney's intentions from the get go. Ginger Foutley-Patterson wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulders as they began the trek upstairs. "C'mon. I'll give you the lay of the land," Ginger smiled.

_I hope she's offering me a repeat of the one she gave me years ago. _Courtney thought. Wishfully.

* * *

_**Patterson house **_

_**Little after 1 am.**_

Everyone in the house turned in hours ago. Courtney hit the hay around the same time as Ginger and the hubby. As she walked down the hallway she peeked in on Marlowe. The sight of the baby sound asleep did her some good. Hopefully that combined with a short walk would help ease her nerves and allow her to ease into a peaceful night's sleep. She wasn't used to going to sleep at a reasonable hour.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs the appearance of a light nearly made her jump out of her skin. Cautiously she made her way into the kitchen. The culprit was unmistakable.

"Carl Foutley?"

The grown man immediately straightened up at being addressed by a voice that he recognized to be vaguely familiar. He ceased rummaging through the fridge, slowly turning around to face the party that addressed him. Totally unashamed that he was standing before the stranger, almost completely naked save for his boxer shorts.

Carl Foutley couldn't help but tilt his head to the side, trying to place the person before him. Then it came to him.

"Gripling?!" He exclaimed. No longer cautious. It'd been years since he last seen the prissy woman. Now there she was standing in the doorway wearing a casual white nightshirt that once upon a time she wouldn't be caught dead wearing. "Awww man. What're you doing here, it's been years?"

"I think the better question is what are _you_ doing here?" She put her hands on her hips.

"I live here," he said. "Well not _here _per say. I stay in the guest house."

"Well that seems fitting after all. You move from one dog house to the other," Courtney chided.

"You're not still salty about that port'o'potty incident are you?" Carl laughed at what was arguably the former popular girl's most embarrassing moment ever. To his credit it wasn't his intention.

"You try getting piddle and other bodily fluids out of your hair and clothes for a week. Actually I'm sure you were used to it"

"Yeah you always were to spoiled to play around in the dirt," Carl quipped under his breath. But the comment didn't go unnoticed by Courtney.

"I'll ask you again. Why are you here? In _Ginger's_ house." She wasn't having his shenanigans tonight.

"Well if you must know...the lady friend I'm entertaining is hypoglycemic. Just popped in to grab a Gatorade. Last time I banged the sugar out of her and we almost had to take her to the emergency room."

Courtney Gripling rolled her eyes.

"So how's ol' Blakey boy, doing?" He asked with genuine concern. The two boys may have gotten off on the wrong foot with each other as children, but over the years they grew to respect each other. And while Blake and Carl would never admit it out loud their rivalry grew into a budding friendship.

"He's fine. He gave up on politics, and followed in Winston's footsteps by dedicating his life to servitude. He's flying private jets now" She said.

"That's good. I always figured deep down he was too good for politics." He cast a look over his shoulder out the window above the kitchen sink. The light from the window of the guest house reminded him of his original intention. "Hey listen, I gotta get back. But give your regards to Blake for me. Tell him next time he's in the area look me up and we'll have a beer."

"I'll think about it."

Carl Foutley rolled his eyes as he made his way towards the door, Gatorade in hand. "You know Courtney, she's not going to leave Darren and drive off into the sunset with you and my niece," he relented. And with that he strolled out into the night. Back to his little love shack.

Courtney scoffed at his audacity. Carl Foutley had some nerve talking to her like that. Ok she may have been rude, but he started it, him and his uncanny intuition that he'd honed since childhood. And look as long as she's being honest, she doesn't hate the Foutley boy. They had their ups and downs but truth be told he was alright.

The twenty eight year old began the trek back upstairs, hoping that now she'd finally be able to ease into a decent night's sleep.

Yet unbeknownst to her and the other occupants of the Patterson estate, their restlessness was nothing compared to that of the looming black bear that was roaming through the woods several miles away. With it's sights set on the cottage, it would only be hours before they were given a rude awakening unlike any they'd ever experienced.


	5. Chapter 5

The creature padded around the leaves as it approached the home. The slender man with red hair taking out a bag of trash did not escape its notice. Carl Foutley was completely oblivious to the bear lurking nearby. A female black bear, the apex predator. She'd traveled several miles in the course of a few hours, and boy was she starving.

* * *

"How'd you sleep?" Ginger asked. She handed Courtney a cup of coffee as her and her husband joined the blonde at their table. With their own mugs filled with coffee. It was a few minutes shy of eight in the morning. The oak table had been decorated with powdered donut holes and cinnamon roles. The ideal breakfast for those of Ginger's generation.

"Should you be drinking that?" Courtney said, referring to the cup of joe her friend had fixed for herself. Her mind flashed back to high school, when Ginger developed an unhealthy addiction to coffee.

"It's fine," Ginger smiled while giving Courtney a playful shove on her shoulder. "Now that I'm older I can control it."

Courtney nodded. She reached for a cinnamon roll from the tray that her hosts had been gracious to set out. She answered Ginger's question after taking a small bite. "I bumped into your brother late last night. Oh Ginger I do hope you're not mad. I have a tendency to wander in the dark. I'm not used to sleeping well these days."

"Mad. I'm not mad Courtney. It's normal."

"Yeah. We all get those little bouts of insomnia from time to time," Darren mumbled as he munched on a roll.

"You didn't tell me he lived here."

"Yeah...I totally forgot. I hope you weren't startled."

"I wasn't. Well he caught me off guard but we did have a brief chat." She took another bite of her cinnamon roll. "Why does he live out in the guest house?"

"Well originally he stayed in your room," Ginger took a sip of coffee. "But when he told us he was going back to school, I didn't want him bringing his work home so to speak."

"That and he was turning our house into the playboy mansion." Darren quipped.

"It was quite the parade if you know what I mean," Ginger chuckled. She turned around and held the sippy cup up to her daughter's mouth.

Courtney Gripling wasn't sure what puzzled her more, the fact that she was staying in the Foutley boy's old bedroom or the fact that the weirdo really got around. Before she could process it a horrendous roar startled everyone at the table.

The guttural bellow terrified baby Marlowe who immediately started crying. Ginger instinctively grabbed her child as her, Darren, and even Courtney all traded terrifying looks with each other. The creature roared a second time, making it obvious it was within a few feet of the house.

...

"Tell me that's not what I think it is?" Darren panicked.

...

"It's Dodie!" Ginger shouted.

Darren rushed over to one of the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse. "I thought she didn't have our address?" He cried out. Looking out the window proved useless as he couldn't see anything.

The trio jumped out of their skin as the heard the sound of metal being tossed around. Their aluminum trash cans to be exact.

"Darren!" Ginger scoffed. "Now she's going through our trash!"

"That is so rude of her Ginger!," Courtney interjected.

"I'll call Chet!" He said frantically as he backed away from the window heading over to grab his daughter from his terrified wife. "I got her." Darren assured softly.

"Listen to me," Ginger quickly grabbed Courtney by both arms, "were you followed?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Think Courtney," Ginger shook her friend frantically. "Is there anyway Dodie could've possibly followed you here?"

Courtney broke free from the other woman's grip. Offended that she'd insult her intelligence like that. "How could I have been followed Ginger?" Courtney puts her hand on her hips. "I haven't spoken to Dodie since high school, and she wouldn't even know that I've come here."

"Okay. I'm sorry Courtney."

"It's ok. The important thing is-" she was cut off by the slamming of the kitchen door. Carl Foutley was panting. Leaning against the door as he struggled to calm his nerves.

"Carl!" Ginger rushed over to her brother. "Are you alright?"

"There's a god damn bear out there, Ginger!" Shaking profusely he hugged her.

"A _bear_?" She raised her eyebrow. "Like a grizzly?" Darren asked.

"Nuh-uh," Carl let go of his sister. "It's a black bear. Grizzlies aren't exactly native to this coast."

The news that it wasn't Dodie sent a wave of relief over the trio, before returning to panic. If a bear was lurking around their home it meant bad news. Black bears aren't particularly common in Connecticut.

"What do we do?" Courtney asked

Darren handed Marlowe back to Ginger. "I know what to do." He said as the redhead watched her husband bolt from the kitchen through the house and up the stairs. Marlowe was still sobbing, Ginger's attempts to calm her child had failed. Her daughter probably sensed her fear, even though she tried to hide it, she needed to be strong for her child. Ugh! Why couldn't it have been Dodie? She thought.

A few thumps later Darren came rushing down the stairs with a double barrel shotgun. Now Carl was the king of weird and disturbing but even he was mortified by the revelation that his sister and brother in law owned a shotgun. The scientist watched as Darren loaded it with two slugs.

He turned to his sister. "Since when do you guys own a gun?"

"I admit I wasn't sold on it either, but when we moved out here. The isolation really messes with your peace of mind."

"So you buy a shotgun?!"

"Yeah. Plus if he misbehaves it's one barrel for him, and one barrel for me!" Ginger joked trying her best to lighten the mood.

Carl rolled his eyes. "Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"Not exactly," he held it casually, with it unintentionally pointed near Carl's feet. "Ging, and I planned on learning and taking a few classes-" his attention drifted as his focus was on the weapon. Aiming it, and trying to adjust to it before he approached a window.

Courtney was furious.

"You two have obviously never gone skeet shooting and it shows!" She snatched the gun from Darren.

"Oh and Darren, you'd be a dear to keep your finger away from the trigger guard until your ready to shoot. Gun safety everyone."

Shaking her head, Courtney cocked both barrels as she walked over to the window.

"Don't shoot!" Carl plead. "She's just hungry. She's looking for food to feed to her young"

The bear trotted around the fresh trash strewn over the yard, she sized up an apple. Ginger had thrown out a couple of them. The so called runts of the litter, the small ones that everyone seems to throw out, much like they do with potatoes.

Courtney on the other hand was trembling. on the other side of the wall. It reminded her of her own teenage years. The brief time she spent living among the middle class.

Starving.

"_Mama what are we going to do? Blake and I are starving." _

_"I don't know Courtney!" She screamed. "I need time to think." Claire Gripling was ready to rip her hair out. Nothing had prepared her for this. Never had the thought even once crossed her mind that she'd be forced to fend for herself let alone her children. Asking Winston for help was useless, the dolt couldn't cook either._

_"Mama, look." Courtney and Blake each held up a box of shell noodles. Their only lifeline. _

_"It says 'bring water to a boil before adding'. How long does it take water to boil?"_

_"I don't know Courtney. You and your brother figure it out. I can't do this right now." Claire stormed off into another room leaving her children devastated. That was one of the worst night's Courtney ever entered. Eventually they figured out how to make a meal out of the noodles. No thanks to a quick phone call to the Foutley girl who provided a much needed assist._

* * *

Courtney eased the shotgun away from the window before popping out the slugs. Carl was right. She walked away from the window handing the shotgun to Darren. "She'll leave eventually. But I think we should warn your neighbors in that house over there." Courtney pointed in the direction of the house she saw outside the window.

"Oh nobody lives there Courtney. It's for sale."

"I can't imagine why. It's quite peaceful out here, Ginger."

"Well you know how it is Courtney," Darren interjected.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh you know. Folks see a nice young interracial couple moving into the neighborhood then next thing you know, the 'for sale' signs pop up everywhere." Darren said.

Courtney scoffed. "Tell me you're joking?" She may have grown up privileged but the blonde detested racism, and well...any form of bigotry. Her closest friends were quite diverse, even as a kid.

"It's more common than you think," Carl chimed in.

"Anyway...back to the issue at hand."

"Let her eat. The bear's desperate and hungry, Ginger. If it continues to pose a threat to you and your baby then I suppose I'll do what I have to do. Until then I suggest we get back to business and go over the contract." The blonde smiled.

She was met with no objections from the rest of the group. They were quite frazzled, but they managed to finish off their breakfast.

* * *

"I have to admit: that was pretty impressive back there. You taking charge of that situation," Ginger chuckled. The redhead had made her way over the the refrigerator to fetch her daughter's bottle of formula.

Courtney was standing in the doorway, watching her. The boys had left to go on their own little excursion.

"It's no big deal. I'll always keep you safe. You and Marlowe," the blonde assured her friend.

Ginger's laugh was muffled due to her head being buried in the fridge but it hadn't escaped Courtney. "Well I guess it's only fitting. All those times I saved your life back then." She laughed as she finally spotted the formula.

Courtney Gripling was silent for a second, before the irresistible impulse came over her.

...

"I love you." She blurted out.

...

Ginger's hand froze, stopping short of the bottle. She pulled herself out of the refrigerator, slowly leaning up. She turned to face her best friend.

...

"I know," she confessed biting the corner of her bottom lip.

...

The two ladies, stood yards apart. Immobilized by the tension in the room, before Ginger finally broke the ice.

"We never did have _that_ conversation did we?" Ginger said softly

"Kinda hard to do when you took off your senior year, and never came back."

All the redhead could do was nod. The twenty eight year old was right. Ginger did leave college a few days after their tryst, to go be with Darren. An impulsive move that seemed out of character for her, but rest assured, she finished the remainder of her courses online. Earning that degree, and an engagement ring around the same time. But she always felt bad about the situation with Courtney. The poor girl probably felt used, and it really bothered Ginger.

She grabbed the baby formula from the refrigerator and made a quick trek into the garage.

"C'mon let's go for a walk," she said to Courtney as she returned with a baby stroller in hand.

* * *

A/N: *Sorry this chapter took so long. The characters just weren't speaking to me lol. So that's why this chapter feels phoned in.

*Next chapter is the long awaited talk. The one we were supposed to get when the show was on Nickelodeon, but the damn network execs vetoed it because it would've been to controversial.


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: _***As of December 2019, this chapter has been edited. Normally I would never do this because death by a thousand edits sort of thing, but I couldn't shake the feeling something was missing. So enjoy the flashback sequence.

* * *

**Pittsburgh,  
****2013**

"Follow me, Courtney," Ginger assured her friend. Their nightclub excursion didn't pan out like they'd planned so now the ladies found themselves at the back end of an Italian restaurant illuminated by a dim light in the blue of the night.

"I know a shortcut," Ginger promised the blonde. She promised to wow her in fact. Much to Courtney Gripling's surprise the old brown metal door with a slight rust opened up as a towel boy ushered them in through the kitchen.

"Eyyy there Maestra!" The owner greeted the redhead enthusiastically, unaware of her companion at first as the two burst through the door of the restaurant. "Grace us with a little number, please Madam?"

"Take it easy there Giacomo, not tonight," Ginger chuckled leading her friend through the massive kitchen. Dodging clouds of flour the blonde was for once indifferent to something staining her clothes, for she was too mesmerized by the spinning crusts being tossed into the ovens and the chefs working like artisans as they crafted masterpiece after culinary masterpiece.

"Are we even allowed to be back here," the blonde wondered? Refusing to take her eyes off the works of art before her eyes.

"Totally. You see sometimes I perform here for a little extra cash."

Courtney fawned over the kitchen workers like a child experiencing ice cream for the first time. Her dopey grin practically extended from ear to ear. It was a dream come true. She was being led through the kitchen of an un upscale Italian restaurant like something out of a gangster movie. Pizza's spun in the air, and waitstaff shuttled metal trays back and forth. The Gripling girl couldn't say it out loud, but this felt like the perfect date. Well to her anyway, Ginger didn't see it that way. Probably didn't even see her that way.

The redhead turned to her friend, enamored with her smile and utter fascination. "I told you I'd wow you."

"Marry me Red," she said under her breath. Or so she thought. Apparently it was loud enough for Ginger to hear. The Freudian slip jerked Courtney out of her reverie.

"Nah," Ginger laughed. They reached the end of the kitchen. She didn't mind her companion's blunder. For a while she'd known the blonde's feelings towards her. More and more often the Gripling girl listed every contrivance she could think of to be around the other girl. To hug her or hold her even, when situations permitted it. Ginger didn't mind. It was sweet, endearing even. Sheltered Shrub's most beloved daughter was sick, but the beautiful kind of sick where you feel like you're soaring.

The rest of the evening felt like a trippy dream of sorts. All Courtney could recall was lots of laughing, pizza sauce, pulling Ginger tight while she extended her arm out as they took stupid silly selfies with her smartphone. Adrenaline coursed through the rich girl's veins, she was...well jittery. The butterflies in her stomach made her feel like she was going to be queasy, but she knew better from experience. It was the perfect evening. For Courtney Gripling was head over heels in love.

* * *

_**Present Day**_

Joggers were in full form throughout the park. The crackling of the autumn leaves as they passed the girls went completely unnoticed. A slender redhead, her blonde companion, and a baby sleeping peacefully in her stroller meandered on the sidewalk, almost in harmony.

"I love you too Courtney. I'll always love you just like I'll always love Macie, or Dodie. But I'm not _in_ _love_ with you."

"Thank you Ginger. Thank you for being honest," Courtney held her head down.

"Don't do that Courtney. Talk to me," she said gently. "Tell me how you feel."

"I guess...look that night we spent together, it really meant a lot to me. I finally won your heart." The blonde started to tear up. "Thought you were finally mine forever."

"I never wanted to hurt you Courtney."

"Why _did _you do it that night?"

"Because-" The redhead began, "I knew how you felt, and if I was going to have that experience then there was nobody I'd rather share it with than one of the sweetest, most kindest people I know."

The Gripling girl had to stop pushing the stroller for a minute to dry her eyes.

"You really mean that?"

"Of course I do." "Besides. You're attractive. I'm attractive. And there's totally been something building between us since junior high. Might as well cross it off both our bucket lists," she joked.

Courtney laughed. The young author was relieved that she was able to coax some levity out of the situation.

"I don't know if I'll ever feel the same about anyone ever again."

"Time affords you a unique perspective. Trust me when I tell you it heals all wounds. You'll meet someone. I promise."

"Oh I sure hope you're right," the blonde chuckled.

"I am."

Courtney resumed pushing the stroller along the smooth winding park sidewalk.

"I feel bad for you Courtney," Ginger confessed almost suddenly out of nowhere.

"What do you mean?"

"Well you live all alone in that big house in Cambridge, working a job you hate." She pauses to give a sullen look at the ground. "Nobody deserves that."

"Actually Ginger...I kind of like what I do."

The redhead looked at her friend, not astonished but caught off guard by the admission. It was strange. Since High School and college the former fashionista had been determined to forge her own path. Ginger knew her friend dabbled in real estate periodically. Ever since her and Blake all but had to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps since their own mother proved incompetent at doing so.

"I mean...I hate the fact that I work for someone. Briarson and Ballinger isn't mine, but I've come to love reading people's stories. Publishing them and what not. It's really helped me gain a sense of perspective and happiness that I've been missing."

"So why don't you buy it?" Ginger asked.

Courtney scoffed. "Oh Ginger, corporate raids are a thing of the past. Besides, this Gripling doesn't have enough capital. I'd have to make it a joint venture, and I'll never ask father for the funds."

"You've come a long way from the girl you once were."

"Oh hush. I'm still relatively the same."

"Nah. You're more nuanced."

"Well I suppose so."

Marlowe began to fuss as she wormed around in her stroller ever so slightly.

"I think this little one's had enough." Ginger said

Courtney nodded. It was nearing sundown, as the three made their way back to the Patterson cottage. Holding hands the entire way back. It was a sweet gesture between the friends.

* * *

"You understand that you'll be signing over the rights to your work, Ginger?"

Ginger, Darren, Carl, and Courtney were gathered around the dining room table leaning over the author as she gave the publishing contract one final glance. This was it. The defining moment of her life. She was so proud of herself for reaching this milestone.

"Ride or die,Courtney?" Ginger looked up at her friend, challenging her with a smirk.

Courtney smiled as she shook her head in agreement. "Ride or die!"

Ginger Foutley clicked the pen, and finally, at last signed the contract. Her book deal was now official.

"Congratulations babe!" Darren cheered.

"Mazel Tov!" Carl shouted.

"Who wants Champagne?" Darren asked. A loud pop followed as the cork shot out of the bottle.

Carl, Courtney, and Ginger were all happy to take him up on his offer. The three of them raised their glasses as Ginger stood up and clinked hers against all of them. "I couldn't have done it without you guys," she struggled to force the last part out as the redhead found herself crying. Proud of herself for what she accomplished. Proud that three of the other people in her dining room were able to shape her life experiences in such a way that it left a profound impact. Much of which gave her the perspective and the confidence to put her life story on paper.

"First a book, then a television series!" Carl joked.

They all laughed.

"I don't know Carl. 'As Told by Ginger'...it doesn't have much of a ring to it, for a tv show anyway."

"Yeah...you're right. It would never work out."

"Tomorrow night. We go out and celebrate!" Ginger declared.

The party murmured in agreement. As everyone went off in the living room Courtney was left at the table. Shuffling the papers back into the folder. The twenty eight year old took a few nervous sips of champagne. The blonde knew what was in store for her. Her bosses will not be happy about the two percent increase in royalties for paperback sales. It was a risk she was willing to take.

She pushed her worry down as she went to rejoin her friends in the other room.

* * *

A/N: Alrighty next chapter will be the final one, but not to worry there will be another chapter after that which will serve as an epilogue. I really hope you all are digging this story. The lack of audience feedback makes me nervous especially last chapter where I'm fearful that I wasn't able to make it clear that the whole thing with dodie and the bear was meant to be a gag. A funny misunderstanding. Don't be afraid to tell me how you feel. Good, bad, or indifferent. I can take it. I promise


	7. Chapter 7

"Let me get a round of beers for the whole table. Michelob Ultra" Darren asked their server.

"You got it."

"Why the long face Courtney?" Ginger asked.

"I can't say I've ever drank beer before."

"Now that I find hard to believe."

"I'm serious, Ginger."

They were out celebrating for now Ginger was a published author. And the redhead was determined to see to it that her friend tried her first beer. To the biased observer Courtney with her air of east coast elitism seemed like a seasoned wino. Alright maybe there's some truth to it, although the blonde was nowhere near as bad to the point where she'd be classified a wino, even though she's come close. Sometimes too damn close.

The server slid the bottles across their table.

"To Ginger!"

The three smiled, clinking their bottles together in unison.

Courtney hesitated, she couldn't help but crinkle her nose before letting the bitter root grace the tip of her tongue. But to her chagrin it wasn't all that bad. The rich woman took a full sip.

"Not bad," she said.

Ginger was about to say something in response, when a booming voice from the bandstand interrupted her.

"Ginger fucking Foutley!"

It was Wendy the owner of the establishment.

"Let's all give it up for our ravishing new writer. She just signed a kickass book deal."

The redhead shot her husband a look. 'You didn't'.

All Darren could do was chuckle. Ginger wasn't complaining, they frequented the place on a regular basis so she felt quite comfortable. Even when she received a vigorous round of applause.

"Thank you Wendy!" Ginger said.

"Get on up here and do us the honor!" The owner gestured over to the stage

Ginger mouthed a huge 'no way' while trying to fight the huge smile. Yet her hesitation was useless. The crowd started chanting.

_Ginger_

_Ginger_

_Ginger_

She wasn't surprised that her husband joined in, but more so at the fact that Courtney was fully engaged. Well trying her best to be engaged. Her giggling in between chanting was endearing to the other woman. At that point how could she refuse? Besides she really liked singing. Her short lived bands were a major highlight of her youth. Unfortunately she had to put it on the back burner as life got in the way. It was a shame because she was just starting to refine her skills. Someday she might come back to music, but for now the sporadic performance here and there in this local bar was enough.

The author took a long swig of beer before she finally rushed up to the stage.

Courtney and Darren watched as she whispered instructions to the band, before approaching the microphone.

Now it was Ginger's turn to do something to catch her friend off guard. The redhead shot the blonde a look.

_Her hair is Harlow gold_

_Her lips are sweet surprise_

_Her hands are never cold_

_She's got Bette Davis eyes_

Courtney Gripling was absolutely floored.

_She'll turn the music on you_

_You won't have to think twice_

_She's pure as New York snow_

_She got Bette Davis eyes._

Mesmerized she hung her head down. Smiling from ear to ear. Nodding as relief washed over her. The torment she'd been plagued with for years, finally released her from its grip.

She turned to the man sitting next to her. Ginger's husband.

"You better treat her right Darren," Courtney playfully warned.

"Courtney." Darren scoffed taken aback by her audacity. "You know I will."

"I mean it Darren. Let me ever find out you broke her heart, and well...let's just say I know people who can make you disappear."

He nodded. And the two sat back to enjoy the performance of a lifetime.

_She's precocious, and she knows just what it_

_Takes to make a pro blush_

_She got Greta Garbo's standoff sighs, she's got Bette Davis eyes_

A while later the couple was able to enjoy a few moments for themselves. But no matter how festive everything was around them as parents they couldn't shake their anxiety.

After all this was their first night away from their child since she'd been born six months ago. The nagging sensation shouldn't trouble them, as they'd left their child in capable hands. Ginger's mother and stepfather were happy to watch their grandchild for the night.

Out on the dance floor Courtney couldn't help but notice her friends glued to the screen of Ginger's phone. No doubt texting Lois Foutley for constant updates about Marlowe's well being.

The twenty eight year old felt bad. This was Ginger's night.

"Ride or die, Ginger?"

The redhead looked up to see her friend's hand extending out towards her. Clearly inviting her to have some fun on the dance floor.

For a second the other woman's words were lost on the author before she pulled herself out of la la land.

Ginger smirked. "Ride or die!" She answered back.

The two swayed in perfect harmony as a slow song came over the speakers. As Courtney wrapped her arms around her friends's shoulders, and Ginger wrapped her arms around the petite woman's waist.

"This takes me back to the last time we did this," Courtney confessed.

"I think I'm ready for a taste of all things Ginger," the redhead teased her. It was a callback to their tryst in college.

Courtney Gripling busted out laughing. Almost on the verge of cackling. It took every bit of muscular coordination for her to not let go of the other woman and fall on the floor.

"Oh God!" Tears streamed down her eyes because she was laughing so hard. "I don't know what on earth possessed me to say that."

"You were nervous. Happens to the best of us." Ginger assured.

The pair resumed their dancing as Madonna's song _Crazy For You _reached its bridge. If anyone noticed the two dancing, they didn't seem to really care. This was the east coast after all.

"Hey there's something Darren and I wanna run by you."

"Yes Ginger?"

"Well...Marlowe hasn't had her christening yet. And yeah...I know she's six months old but we kept pushing it back. But Darren and I wanted to know if you'd like to be Marlowe's Godmother?"

The Gripling woman found herself speechless.

"Wha-I mean...why me Ginger. Wouldn't it be better if you asked Macie?"

"Well we did ask Macie at first, but then she couldn't make it because of a work thing."

"Then I'd be honored," she shouted.

Soon after the two friends rejoined Darren back at his table. The trio stayed for about another hour before calling it a night. Tomorrow Courtney had to leave, back to Cambridge with Ginger's manuscript as well as her trust. In two months time it would be ready to go to print. It would be a hard day for everyone. The past few days felt like a saga had unfolded.

_**The Next Morning **_

_**Patterson Homestead **_

_**11:10 am**_

"Okay. Okay. Try not to break me in half," Ginger said as Courtney finally released her from the bear hug.

The blonde walked across the driveway over to Darren, finally she was going to show him some kindness for the first time since she'd been there. A hug would suffice.

"Darren," Courtney looked at him after the hug. His attention was fixed on her. "I meant what I said last night." She looked over a Ginger and smiled. "Take care of this one. She means the world to me."

"I promise Courtney." Darren assured as him and his wife smiled at their old friend.

Courtney made her way over to Carl Foutley.

"Loser."

"Prima Donna."

The literary executive shrugged it off and smiled. "You're alright Carl Foutley," she gave the man a hug.

"I guess you're alright too," he said reciprocating the hug.

After a minute the twenty eight year old walked over to her Maserati. "Toodles everyone." She beamed as she slid into the front seat and started the vehicle.

"So where are you headed?" Ginger's voice startled the other woman. Apparently the purring of the engine masked her footsteps on the gravel road.

"Oh I figured I'd swing through Sheltered Shubs. I called Macie...she's meeting me for margaritas," Courtney said as she adjusted her sunglasses followed by her mirrors.

"Oh." Ginger looked down at the ground.

Courtney took notice of her friend's mood.

"Oh don't you go being a gloomy Gus, Ginger. I'm coming to visit you in two weeks."

"Oh." That caused the redhead to perk back up.

"You stay out of trouble," Ginger jokes as she leaned in the window to hug her friend one last time.

"Can't make any promises now." Courtney winked. Finally she started up her Maserati. The sunglasses perfectly masked her tears as she looked at her friends in the mirror one last time, before taking off.

It wouldn't be the end of the world after all the Gripling girl would be back to visit in a couple weeks. She was a woman of her word. She smiled as she watched the Patterson's, and Carl finally go back into their home.

But Courtney Gripling wasn't ready to leave quite yet. There was one little piece of unfinished business she needed to look into. The woman rolled down the window of her Maserati as she circled the empty house next door to Darren and Ginger's.

_Sure is a lovely home _she thought as she took in the house. Nodding her head, the Publishing executive pulled out of the driveway and sped down the highway.

Popping in her Corrs: Greatest Hits CD the blonde began her drive. All the while she couldn't help but think about the honor Ginger and Darren bestowed upon her. _Marlowe's Godmother_. It made her recall the last time she went before God in a church. It was a secret she never divulged to anyone, ever.

_**Lucky Memorial Hospital**_

_**Freshman year **_

_**2006**_

"Yoo hoo. You there!" The doctor turned around to face the preppy blonde girl behind him.

"Excuse me there Doctor, but what do these big ol' words mean on her chart." Courtney asked.

"It means..."the doctor snatched the clipboard away from the nosey girl. "That her appendicitis is critical."

"_Critical?" _Courtney shouted. "You mean like...?"

"She may not make it through the night. All we can do is monitor her and hope for the best."

Courtney Gripling was devastated. Her last interaction with Ginger had not ended on the best of terms. "But you have to do something!" She pounded her fists on his thighs. "I'm Courtney Claire Gripling, daughter of Prescott J. Gripling and I demand you fix this!"

"Young lady, I do not appreciate your attitude. Now you're welcome to visit your friend but if you're going to continue to carry on I'm afraid I'll have to have you escorted out of here."

The fashionista scoffed at the doctor's audacity. But she found herself trembling as she made her way over to Ginger's bedside. It was nighttime and nobody knew Courtney was at the hospital save for Winston. She heard a rumor that Ginger was admitted, so she immediately dropped everything.

"Oh Ginger. Ginger, Ginger, Ginger," Courtney crooned as she squeezed her friend's arm with both hands.

"You have to get better. You just have to. I...-" for some reason the blonde hesitated. She couldn't fathom why she was having trouble getting the words out. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

A discreet tear slid down her cheek. Something had to work. Maybe a truth, or a revelation would help. Courtney thought back to how Ginger would often talk about those things in English class. They always seemed to make things better for the story in the long run.

The young girl hesitated for a few seconds before she finally leaned over to whisper into her friend's ear. She knew what she needed to get off her chest.

"I didn't mean what I said a few days ago," Courtney sniffled, trying her best to hold back the tears. "When I said you've never been as popular as me. Truth is I'd give anything to have what you have."

"Friends who actually like you for who you are and wouldn't drop you like yesterday's Chanel. Parents who want to spend time with you; that natural charm that comes so easy for you."

"Truth is...I hate it sometimes. What my life is, what it's become."

The little girl leaned over the unconscious redhead and gave her a big hug. "You can't die Ginger Foutley. You just can't."

With that, the troubled young woman grabbed her handbag and walked out of the room. Wiping her tears in the process. Courtney was on her way back downstairs to meet up with Winston when she felt drawn to something right before she caught the elevator.

A little room with a small cross above it. The chapel.

It called to her. Courtney felt uneasy but she knew it was something she had to do. She was no stranger to church, given her Episcopalian upbringing. It was a place her or her family seldom frequented.

The young woman slipped past the door ever so slightly as to not rouse suspicion. The room was small, dainty even. With a couple rows and a small alter carefully crafted to not exclude any denomination.

With complete discretion she kneeled down before the alter.

"Hey there God...Courtney Gripling here. I know it's been awhile. I was just hoping you could grant me a little favor and see to it that Ginger doesn't die...umm thank you. Amen." She unclasped her hands and made her way back to the door, but an internal force wouldn't let her leave. Somehow she knew she had to do more. But what more could she do? She thought back to English class, and go figure Ginger. How the redhead once explained to her that one of the themes of a story was sacrifice. A character needed to give something to receive something. But this was life or death, and Courtney knew that no piddly little offering was going to cut it.

She released the door handle, and walked back over to the alter. The tears were flowing as she kneeled down once again. "Fine. If it's a sacrifice you want then it's a sacrifice you'll get," she pouted.

Once again she sniffled as she struggled to push the words out. Courtney Gripling had never uttered these words before. "You can have it all if you want. I suppose. My money, my house, all my clothes. Just please don't let her die."

The blonde bowed her head and sealed the prayer with a kiss.

Feeling as if a tremendous weight was lifted off her shoulders she gave the alter one last look.

_I mean it. I'll give it all up. Just for her. Just please don't take her. _Courtney thought as she shut the lights off and exited the small chapel.

_**Present Day**_

Courtney smiled at the recollection. Her family fortune did in fact crumble a few weeks after Ginger was released from the hospital. Sure it was an adjustment, but if you asked her it was totally worth the sacrifice. She had indeed lost everything, but at her lowest point Courtney Gripling learned what was most important. She laughed as she drove past the sign leading into Sheltered Shrubs.


	8. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

"You can't do this to us Gripling." Her boss shouted at her over the phone.

"I bought most of the shares. Listen it's all a bit technical but since I own Briarson and Ballinger first order of business is that you're all fired gentlemen."

"You fucking Bit-" Courtney smiled as she hung up.

No more than sixty seconds had passed before her cell phone lit up again. This time it was someone a little more friendlier.

"Is it true Courtney. Did you really buy out B&B?" Her assistant Warner asked.

"It's all true Warn."

"But...how'd you even raise the capital? Your real estate holdings couldn't possibly have covered it all."

Courtney huffed. "Well if you must know my brother Blake and I merged our interests together. He had to sell off some of his control of JetGreen airlines, but Briarson & Ballinger Publishing is now under the control of the Gripling Group(LLC)."

"Wow...that's really something Ms. Gripling."

"Oh stop tiptoeing through the tulips Warner. I'm aware of your mixed feelings towards my leadership, but nonetheless I'm willing to let you keep your job. Should you so decide."

"Thank you Courtney. I'll let you know."

"You've got 48 hours to make your decision Warn. I'd love to talk more but it's the launch of Ginger's book. Toodles!"

The executive hung up the phone. The Maserati Ghibli coasted into the parking space as the woman yanked the clutch into park. She was impressed with the turnout. Off in the distance she could see Macie, and Dodie walking in. Catching up. Dodie looked like she was in control of her life again. Hopefully she could stay clean for the sake of Chet and their daughter.

But this was no time to dawdle. Ginger was waiting for her inside, and with the way the place was filling up, she'd have to hurry if she wanted to get a front row seat.

"_Whenever I've been afraid to make that leap, I've thought back to that moment when it seemed like my mom's entire world fell apart. And yet she was still convinced of her love for my soon to be dad."_

Courtney was startled by the vibration in her pocket. On the sly she checked to see who could possibly be calling her.

It was Lydia, her realtor. Not wanting to miss another second of Ginger's reading, the Gripling girl dashed outside of Book's Cafe.

"This better be important Lydia," Courtney warned. "I'm at a client function."

She gasped at the news she just received. It was that shocking. Courtney could hardly contain her excitement. She was dying to go back in and tell Darren and Ginger the news. Sure it was probably rude of her to walk out, but Ginger was just about to wrap up the reading. And Courtney knows her friend won't be mad.

She walks back in.

"_Time gives your life a unique perspective as you get older. You see that the challenges that once seemed so scary when you were young, really weren't that scary at all. Looking back...you're glad you took the risks. _

_Like my mother said 'if you don't get a few bruises and scrapes along the way. Then you're not living._

_And if time teaches us anything in this crazy world, it's that nothing worth having ever comes easy._

_Thank you." _

"Where'd you go and run off to?" Ginger asked, as Courtney joined her at the signing booth.

"Oh just a little side project. Nothing to worry about."

"Thank you," an attendee said as Ginger closed their book and smiled.

"No. Thank you." Ginger said.

"Say Ginger, would you call Darren over here a quick minute I've got incredible news,"

The author motioned for her husband to come over and join them. A notion which didn't really bother Darren too much since mingling with strangers and people he hadn't spoken to in well over a decade, was quite taxing. Not to mention more than a few of them turned out to be either pretentious, vapid, or a frustrating combination of both.

"What's up, Babe?"

As soon as a lull in the line presented itself the redhead answered her husband. "It's Courtney. She has something she wants to tell us." Ginger and Darren eagerly spun around to face the blonde.

"Darren, Ginger...you know how we've been friends forever?"

The couple nodded.

"Well now we're neigh-"

"Oh my Gawd, Ginger I'm so happy for you!" A shrill voice interrupted the woman. One all too familiar to the trio.

"Dodie...," Ginger greeted reluctantly. "How are you?"

"I'm great Ginger. I'm on top of the world, in fact."

The perky woman turned her attention to Darren and the baby, "aww your daughter is adorable. I can't wait to see her playing on the jungle gym with Aspen someday." Dodie was referring to her daughter. Aspen, an odd name. She was older than Marlowe by a year and a half, and the spitting image of her mother. Whether or not she'll inherit her personality is up to the gods.

"Do my eyes deceive me? Courtney Gripling is that you?" Dodie's attention immediately shifted from one minor celebrity to another.

"Hi Dodie." Courtney gave a little wave. She was still pissed off that the peppy little shit interrupted her.

"It's been literally years Courtney. What brings you here?"

"She's my literary agent," Ginger interjected.

"And she was just about to tell us something _important." _Darren butted in.

"Oh...well don't let me keep you, then." With a frown Dodie Bishop walked away.

"We'll catch up later Dodie!" Ginger shouted back at her which seemed to make her smile.

"Ehhh hemm. Anyway as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted...we're neighbors!" Courtney closed her eyes and squealed in excitement.

"You didn't." Darren looked at Courtney then at an equally shocked Ginger.

"You bought the house next to us?" Ginger said. "So you're moving from Cambridge?"

"Oh don't be silly Ginger. It's my new holiday home."

All three laughed. The lull in the line subsided. Ginger felt herself anxious as more people lined up. She felt a hand rest on each shoulder as Darren and Courtney Gripling both smiled. They'd be her guide, and her lifelong companions.

* * *

_**Six years later**_

_**Courtney Gripling's estate**_

_**Cambridge, MA**_

Humming a little song to herself as she gave the batch of scrambled eggs one final stir, Courtney Gripling smiled that goofy smile of adoration she'd had all her life when she heard someone special hop up on the barstool of her kitchen.

"Good morning Julius. My perfect, perfect son!" She singsonged as she turned around to face her little boy. Today was his fourth birthday. The thirty four year old joined her little boy on the other side of the counter. Placing two plates of scrambled eggs and toast, beside each other.

"Happy Birthday, sweet pea," the thirty four year old hugged her son as she sat down. She kissed him on the side of his head as the two ate their breakfast.

It was magical. Almost as magical as that marvelous night four years ago when Julius Gripling was placed in his mother's arms for the first time. Immediately the infant's mother fell in love with the bundle of joy, pure perfection he was.

Courtney's life found new meaning. As her home, and her life in general now felt a lot less empty.

Now the ghost of Briarson and Ballinger Publishing finally felt corporeal.

* * *

Thank you all for coming with me on this journey. I really hope you enjoyed this story. Also I absolutely had to find a way to retcon the series epilogue, because the fact that Courtney wasn't present was an injustice.


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